
The Exhaustion Epidemic: Why We've Forgotten How to Be Kind
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Have We Forgotten How to Be Kind?
Lately, I've found myself asking a quiet question that echoes louder with each passing day: Have we forgotten how to be kind?
It's not one specific moment that brought this on—it's something I've started to notice more. I feel it when I'm on the train, surrounded by a sea of tired faces, each tucked into their own glowing screens. There's barely a glance exchanged, let alone a smile. We're all there, together, yet oddly alone. Even in the morning, catching a glimpse of my reflection as I rush out the door, I don't always recognize the face looking back.
I'm not blaming anyone. We're all running our races—chasing deadlines, expectations, and a life we were told would make us feel fulfilled. But somewhere along the way, the world got louder, faster... and, at times, meaner.
What separates us all
You can see it online every day. Open any comment section—whether it's a celebrity post, news update, or even a harmless video. People are quick to demean, insult, and rip each other apart. Freedom of speech has somehow become freedom to be cruel. Disrespect gets justified as dark humor. Sarcasm gets praised while empathy is brushed off as weakness.
Everywhere you turn—from headlines to comment sections—it feels like people are fighting more and forgiving less. A young boy takes his own life after being falsely accused on social media. People demean him, his friends stop talking to him, and he can't see a way out. A man wrongly accused online of harassment loses his job, his relationships, and his reputation. Women share opinions only to receive rape threats and have their details doxxed online, putting their safety at real risk.
Without knowing the whole truth, or even pausing to consider where someone's words or actions are coming from, we become judge, jury, and executioner. Social media has made it easier to speak, but we've stopped taking a moment to think about the consequences of what we say and do.
We argue over things as basic as the language we speak, the choices we make, and the spaces we occupy. What used to be everyday differences now feel like battlegrounds. The tolerance that once held communities together seems to be thinning out.
And what's even more painful?
We barely notice it anymore.
The human cost (of not being kind)
There's something deeply human about kindness—about smiling at a stranger, offering a seat, or just looking up from our phones to acknowledge someone's presence. It doesn't take much. But these days, it feels like a luxury we can't afford. And that's heartbreaking.
Because the lack of kindness, of connection, doesn't just change the world around us—it changes us.
It makes the world feel colder, even when everything around us seems normal. It creeps into our mental health in quiet ways: a sense of loneliness in crowded places, anxiety that simmers without reason, a constant state of defensiveness. We grow numb, not because we want to—but because it feels like the only way to survive in a world that's stopped pausing to care.
Gentle Tools for Softening
If you're craving a moment of pause in a loud world, our Sunday Journaling Series is designed for you. Each weekly prompt offers space to slow down, reconnect, and remember the soft, kind version of yourself.
Explore the SeriesWhere do we go from here?
Maybe we're just exhausted. I see it often—people waking up already feeling overwhelmed, their minds racing with everything that needs to be done that day. We move from one task to another, barely pausing to breathe, constantly trying to keep up with messages, calls, deadlines, and expectations. By the time evening comes, there's hardly any space left inside us to connect with anyone else. Staying in our own bubble feels easier, almost like the only way to protect ourselves from feeling even more drained. Over time, it just becomes a habit—keeping our heads down, doing what needs to be done, and missing those small moments of connection that once made life feel lighter.
But here's the thing—we can also choose to remember.
Remember that kindness isn't grand or loud. It's small. It's in the moment you catch someone's eye and smile. It's not honking when you could have. It's choosing not to comment, not to argue, not to judge. It's slowing down, just a little, so someone else can breathe easier too.
We might not be able to change the pace of the world, but we can choose how we move through it.
I know it's easier said than done. But choosing kindness doesn't always need to be something big or time-consuming. It can look like:
- Looking up and smiling at the person serving you chai, billing your groceries, or sitting next to you on the train
- Pausing before you comment online, asking yourself if what you're about to say is helpful or just adding more noise
- Letting someone go ahead of you in line when you're not in a rush
- Sending a thoughtful message to someone you've been thinking about lately
- Choosing to listen fully when someone is speaking, without thinking about how you'll respond
- Not reacting immediately to something that triggers you, but taking a moment to understand where it's coming from
Small moments like these don't change the entire world overnight, but they do shift the energy around us. They remind us—and others—that despite how fast or harsh life can feel, kindness still exists, and it begins with each of us.
Maybe kindness feels rare these days because not many people choose it anymore. And maybe—just maybe—that's exactly where we need to begin again.